


Fragments in Time

by Weight_of_lies



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, Friendship/Love, Loneliness, Regret, Siblings, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 22:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weight_of_lies/pseuds/Weight_of_lies
Summary: When the loneliness becomes too much, Althea finds herself revisiting old video recordings from her past. She spent so much time building walls and isolating herself while her loved ones were alive, that it's too late to go back.





	Fragments in Time

The campfire popped and cracked with the addition of another log. It was one of those early autumn nights that reminded your body of winter’s foreboding chill. 

Althea crouched to meet the flames, extending her hands to allow the heat to wash over her fingers and soak into her skin. The crisp night air held a stillness save for the chirps and buzzes from the waning population of summer’s creepy-crawlies. She heaved a sigh before feeding another log to the fire.

It was during quiet moments like tonight when the loneliness consumed her thoughts. Althea tried to keep busy when her mind grew loud and angry. _Idle hands are the devil’s workshop_. The proverb had been drilled into her head as a child raised by her father. However, you could only count rounds of ammunition and packs of dried noodles so many times before that brought on a different kind of crazy. She never liked her dad anyway.

Althea surveyed the camp she had set-up for the night. The bottles meant to act as an alarm were hung securely on fishing line from tree to tree. Hopefully, this will distract any trespassers from the tripwire. She toyed with the wire strung below using the toe of her boot, taking satisfaction in her work. _Comfort can get you killed_ , she thought. Al always enjoyed meeting new people, but she made sure it would be on her terms.

The brunette knew it did not take an expert to unravel the correlation between her lonesomeness and lack of fresh blood. 

It had been a few weeks or maybe months since she had recorded a new face. Althea thought back to the middle-aged mother who literally fell for her trap. _When did I record Amina’s tape?_ The concept of time seemed frivolous to most in this new world, but as a journalist, Al took pride in keeping an accurate record. She mentally slapped herself for losing track of time. 

It rattled Al to think that her days were slowly beginning to blend together.

The sudden hoot of a nearby owl shook her from those thoughts. _Get your shit together_. Althea stood, brushing bits of dried grass and dirt from her pants. She looked toward her truck as another thought crossed her mind. _You could always visit Leland and his boys._ The woman rubbed the back of her neck while bouncing the idea around in her head.

She was aware of the “honeypot” the men had set-up along the main highway. The bandits had constructed a series of tents to lure weary travelers in off the road only to steal their supplies. While she didn’t condone this type of behavior, the possibility of meeting new people did lighten her darkening mood.

“Fuck it,” she said out loud.

Althea began dismantling the camp she had created around her. It was a process that had become second nature to her after years abroad in hostile areas. _You should always have a back-up to your back-up plan._ She shook her head, it had been awhile since someone imparted those pearls of wisdom. Her fingers worked deftly to untie the ropes and string along the trees.

The sooner she finished breaking down the camp, the sooner she could interact with real people instead of ghosts.

Once the camp was broken down, Althea started the process of meticulously sorting her supplies into their proper homes. Al fell silent. Her movements seemed to be on autopilot. The task seemed to sooth her angry thoughts for the moment.

**Crash.**

“Goddammit,” she shouted.

Althea looked to her left to find a repurposed ammunition box on the floor. The assorted nuts and bolts contained within the box buried her camera.

“Shit,” she said reaching frantically for her camera. Clearing the debris, Al gingerly held the device in her hands.

The jerry-rigged camera was more duct tape and glue than electronic device these days. There were only so many times she could fix it before her luck ran out. Al held her breath as she took a moment to thoroughly inspect the camera. There didn’t appear to be any external damage. Whether or not the device still worked would be the ultimate test. Althea grabbed around her camera bag for a tape.

“Gotcha,” Al spoke triumphantly as she popped the tape into the video camera. 

With the click of a few buttons, the camera whirred to life. She opened the digital screen and pressed play to check the quality. All of the air left her lungs as she stared at the screen. Her eyes took hold of the young man dressed in fatigues with a shaved head talking to the camera.

She took a step back and settled into the bench behind her. It had been awhile since she had seen his face. She watched with rapt attention as tears began to well in her eyes. The brunette listened closely to the tinny audio coming through the speakers.

“So, what are your plans now that you’re home?” Althea could be heard asking from behind the camera. Her subject returned the question with a shit-eating grin as he lunged toward her.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there,
> 
> Thank you for reading. I am horrible at updating, but I will try to keep with this story. I wanted to offer a little insight to the character of Althea as Season 4 really didn't give us too much. I plan to offer a snippet of Althea's past with each chapter. Sorry this one is a bit bogus with a build-up to nothing. I hope you stick with me though.
> 
> Also, the rating and warnings may change overtime.


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